Thirty Years
by Velveteen Nightmare
Summary: Marius is 51 and still needs reassurance from a 25 year old...and a dead one at that.


      _Author's note: I still do not own Les Miserables. This is not my best work; but it is kind to Marius and probably to Cosette as well. Review if you want to. _

      It was the 6th of June, 1862.  Thirty years since the fall of the barricades.  On this night the Parisian streets were calm. 

      Marius Pontmercy had aged well.  His hair was still as thick as it had been in his youth.  However, it was now a charming silver color that gave him a very distinguished look.  Marius's eyesight was not as sharp as it had been, and he often was forced to wear a pair of spectacles.  The spectacles hurt his pride, so Marius only wore them at home, and only then if they had no company. 

      It was late.  Cosette was asleep, and since their youngest daughter had been wed in April, the house was empty of children.

      The quietness of the house suited Marius just fine.  This particular evening he wished to be alone; or he reflected as he poured wine into two glasses and placed them on the table; he merely wished not to be interrupted.

      Marius sat down and scooted the wine glass to the empty seat opposite of him. 

      "Hey, Courfeyrac." He muttered quietly.

       _Hey, yourself._ Came the bantering response.

      "It's been thirty years." Marius said quietly.

      _And you are positively falling apart, my good man._

      Marius smiled vaguely as he watched the familiar figure sit across from him and rest his elbows on the table and place his chin in his hands and grin at Marius.

      "I'm getting old." Marius confided.  "Or, at least, a lot older than I used to be."

      _Deep sentiments, mon ami._

      "Not really."__

_      No, not really._

      There was a pause.

      _What did you want to talk about?_

      "I guess I just wanted to say...I'm sorry."

      _Again?___

      Marius laughed softly at the way "Again" had been uttered.  "Yes, but not in the way I did that first year."

      _Oh good, I hate seeing men cry._

      "I'm so happy with Cosette."

      _I'm so happy for you! _

      "Cut that out." Marius scolded as the youthful figure pulled a face. "What I mean was...I should have liked to have seen you...all of you...old."

      _ Ah? And rub in how much better you've aged? I think I could live without that._

      Marius paused and looked at the table.

      _It's a joke Marius._

      Marius nodded but couldn't manage a laugh. "I just wish--"

      _If wishes were horses then the beggars would ride. _

      "It's getting harder to recall you."

      _I daresay it probably is old man. _

      "Do you hate me?"

      _Why would I hate you?_

      "For my motives for coming that night."

      _Pfffft._

      "I'm afraid I need a bit more to go on than that. Do you hate me? Are you mad?"

_      Honestly Marius. Every year it is the same thing. But I like that...something that doesn't change for once._

      "I need reassurance."

      _We have the same discussion...or rather you have the same discussion in your mind every year._

      "I know. I know you're not really here."

      _I am flattered though. No one else goes to any great lengths to pretend I'm having a drink with them. _

      "But...are you?"

      _Flattered? Yes._

      "No, no. Are you still mad?"

      _Still mad?__ My dear boy, I have never been mad at you. You even saved my life once during that whole ruckus._

      "But I went there to die, and I was the only on who lived!"

      _That's what Prouvaire would call "irony"._

      "But..."

      _Listen Marius; unless you shot me, and I'm just too thick to have realized it, I'm not mad at you. _

      Marius smiled faintly at the exasperation and gentle banter in his friend's tone.

_      Now, Marius, drink your wine, and head off to bed. Go think about your upcoming grandchildren or something. _

      The lawyer took a sip of wine and smiled dimly.  "Thanks, Courfeyrac."

      _Anytime.__  Just don't make this a habit...talking to dead men who aren't there.  Don't want to have to visit you in the asylum. _

      Marius nodded and drained his glass and set it down.  Courfeyrac was looking at him with a slightly amused expression on his face. Marius smiled back and stood up.  "Good night, my friend." Marius glanced at the full wine glass before Courfeyrac's place and decided we would deal with it in the morning. He then went out of the room and climbed up the stairs to go to bed.

Marius felt better, if somewhat absurd, as he snuggled down under the covers and fell fast asleep.

      The night passed uneventfully, until early the following morning.

      "Marius Pontmercy!" Cosette shook Marius roughly. 

      "What?" Marius opened one sleepy eye and looked at his wife bewildered. Cosette wasn't normally so aggravated in the mornings.

      "If you are going to have a couple of glasses of wine before you go to bed, kindly use the same glass twice!" Cosette was only slightly upset; she was smiling through her annoyance, even though she waved the empty glasses under Marius' nose.

      "Wh-"

      "I found two empty wine glasses down stairs this morning.  The next time, please use one." Cosette smiled.  "Honestly,

Marius, will you ever grow up?" She laughed as she took the offending glasses back downstairs.

      Marius could only smile.     


End file.
